My parents met in Osenho. It is located in the Asene Manso Akroso District in the Eastern Region. At the time they met, the district was called Birim South Municipal Assembly. That’s where my mother grew up. She was in Secondary school when my father was posted there to do his national service. The year was 1994, and my dad was posted to teach in the community school. The headmaster of the school at that time is called Mr Justice. I don’t know his surname or the name of the school either. You may be wondering why I am giving out so many details to my story, hang on, I am getting to it. And I do hope by the time this story is complete, I will get the answers I am looking for.

When my father went to the town to do his national service, he was struck by my mother’s beauty. Or maybe it was her innocence he sought to exploit, I do not know the man so I refrain from passing judgment on his character. Everything I know about him, I heard from my mother. Even with her, she wasn’t forthcoming with information on him so I spoke to a few people who met him in 1994. Their little memories of him helped me to build my father into a physical being and not just an abstract idea. I was told he lived in a house owned by a man named Elder Frimpong. The Elder’s wife, Maa Comfort, liked my father very much so she often engaged him in conversations.

Although his Landlords considered themselves to have a good relationship with him, neither of them knew where he came from. They told me, “We only know that he used to visit his elder sister who was married at Akim Swedru. We don’t know his sister’s name or where exactly in Akim Swedru she lived. Sorry, this is all we know. We suggest that you speak to the headmaster of the school he taught at. There may be records of his posting which would bear more details about him. We wish you all the best.” I was disappointed to learn that another trail had gone cold but I had hopes that Mr Justice would have some information for me. So I went to see him.

That day Mr Justice smiled when I introduced myself saying, “I am the daughter of Mabel Okyere, she grew up In this community. In 1994, she met a man who served his national service in a school you were the headmaster of. His name is Michael Oduro. I know it was a long time ago but do you remember him?” “Of course, I remember Michael. Who could forget a charismatic young man like him?” He said. Then he asked, “How is he doing?” That was when I told him, “I don’t know him. I have never met him a day in my life. That’s why I am back in this village looking for information that will lead me to him. Do you know anything from his records from when he worked under you? Any detail about where he comes from will help me make some progress.”

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His face fell as he dug into his memory for information. After a few minutes, he said, “I am sorry. I know he comes from Begoro, here in the Eastern Region, but I cannot pinpoint the exact village. Age has erased that memory from my brain. I also remember that I met one of the students he taught, and she told me she saw Michael in Tema where he works at a court. I wish I had more information to share with you but this is all I have. I hope it helps.” Those were not the answers I was looking for but they were better than nothing so I thanked him and went back to Elder Frimpong’s house. When I got there, I shared my findings with Maa Comfort. She saw how disappointed I looked and asked, “Did your mother not tell you anything about him? Does she not know where he comes from?” I shook my head, “Maa Comfort, I discovered recently that my entire life has been a lie. The person I was made to believe was my father is not. I had to pressure my mother before she told me my biological father is called Michael. She said she didn’t know much about him.”

That was when Maa Comfort told me that my parents didn’t date for long before my mother got pregnant. She said when the news of the pregnancy broke through the community, people convinced my father to run from the village. They told him my grandfather would deal with him horribly for impregnating his daughter while she was in SS2. So he became afraid and run. He didn’t even finish his national service. “After he left, he wrote a letter thanking me and my husband for our hospitality when he lived with us. He was such a nice young man,” Maa Comfort said. She also told me that my father made attempts to get to me through people but they all failed.

I Didn’t Marry You To Become A Baby-Making Machine—Beads Media

Someone may ask why I am searching for him now. I may not have lived my life knowing about him, but I always felt something in my life didn’t add up. And when I learned the truth about him, all the puzzle pieces began to fit. I believe I owe it to myself to meet him one on one and get to know him. I don’t hold any resentment toward him for running away. I just hope and pray that he is alive so I can get to know him for myself. If the details and clues I have shared give you an idea of who I am looking for, kindly reach out to me. If not, then help me by sharing my story with as many people as you can. Please help a daughter find her father. Thank you.

—Ami

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